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PROCEEDINGS 



INDEPENDENCE JUBILEE, 



CELEBRATED AT SPENCERTOWN, 



JULY 4, 1841 



ALBANY : 

FROM THE STEAM PRESS OF CARROtL ANP COOK. 

1846. 

r 



PROCEEDINGS. 



The citizens of Spencertown, desirous of appropriately ob- 
serving the anniversary of our national independence, adopted 
timely measures for the accomplishment of that end. In ad- 
dition to the usual exercises of such an occasion, the ladies 
proposed to give a public dinner in the open air, and it was 
determin,ed that exertions be also made to give the festival a 
local as well a national character. 

Accordingly, cards of invitation were addressed to the na- 
tives of Spencertown who resided abroad, to return again to 
their early scenes, and while celebrating national glories, to 
exchange congratulations at the home of their childhood. 

The Committee of Arrangements obtained the services of 
Joseph W. Gott, Esq., of Goshen, Orange county, a native 
of this town, as orator for the occasion; and relied on many 
others, also, to return and participate in the exercises at the 
table. 

Every preparation which taste could suggest or industry 
accomplish, was freely made by the ladies; and nothing but 
the contingency of unfavorable weather seemed possible to 
mar the prospect before them. But their fears on this ac- 
count were not entirely groundless. For the fourth proved a 
cloudy day, and repeated showers during the morning seemed 
entirely to forbid the prosecution of their plan. About twelve 
o'clock, however, the sky brightened, and it was determined 
to proceed according to design. 

The procession was formed under the direction of Col. U. 
L. Davis, Grand Marshal; assisted by Adjutant W. V. A. 
Husted, and proceeded to the Presbyterian church, where the 
following exercises were held: 



1. Music by the Choir. 

" For freedom, honor and our native land," &c. 

2. Prayer by Rev. T. Woodbridge 

3. Music. 

ODE-Thrice hail L happy day, that speak'st our nation's glory," &c. 

4. Reading of the Declaration of Independence, by 

H. E. NiLEs. 

5. Music 

6. Oration by J. W. Gott, Esq. 



ORATION. 



The hands that signed the immortal instrument to which 
we have just listened, have, one after another, grown stiff and 
nerveless at the icy touch of death. The hearts which swell- 
ed with the expanding love of liberty, and burned with a 
pure patriotism, as they gave to the world, to all succeeding 
ages, to all climes and nations, the dear and lofty pledges of 
" life, fortune, and sacred honor," to maintain the inaliena- 
ble rights of man, lie cold and still in the narrow chambers 
of the grave. The tears of a bereaved nation have been 
poured out over the quiet places of their repose. The grati- 
tude of a whole people, saved from oppression, and enjoying 
the priceless inheritance of rational and law-regulated liberty, 
cheered them through life, and honors them still, though dead. 
But they are not dead. They live, and shall live forever, in 
the memory and reverence of the millions they have blessed. 
They live in the forms of polity, in the social elevation, in 
the untrammelled speech, the unshackled press, and the disen- 
thralled conscience of the thronging multitudes that now fill 
our land Over such men time is powerless. Around their 
names the shades of oblivion do not gather. Death freezes 
not the pulses of that higher and purer life, which glows in 
the love that warms the great heart of a people •— which 
stirs in the thoughts that animate the free mind of a nation. 
Age after age nurtures its undying principles, and the ver- 
dure of ever-enduring youth clings around it still. It rises 
from the graves of generations, and grows more strong and 
bright amidst the decay and dissolution of all grosser ele- 
ments. Untouched in the fiery shock of battle — unshaken 



amid popular convulsions — unworn by its ceaseless activities, 
it utters great thoughts, and points to high examples as time 
rolls on. The boy of a dozen summers feels the thrill of this 
life in his own pulses, and pants to be a man, and to do no- 
ble deeds. The youth breathes it in, and is animated with 
higher purposes and more glowing aspirations. The man 
bathes his spirit in this life, and goes on his way strengthened 
for honorable action, and protected from the seductions which 
enervate and destroy. 

The snows of seventy winters have mantled our hills — the 
grass of as many summers has grown green in our vallies, 
since the birth day of American liberty. Has this flight of 
years weakened the enthusiasm of the popular feeling, or les^ 
sened the profound veneration with which this day was wont 
to be regarded ? Is it not still a festival day for all — for 
youth and age — ^for the boy with his joyous heart, and wo- 
man with her gentle spirit and beaming smile ? Is it not 
still a day set apart for the rejoicings of a whole people, and 
for kindling anew the fire of patriotism upon the altar of the 
national heart. On this day how fresh and strong do " the old 
memories" come thronging upon, us? We see, as if sitting 
before us, the venerable forms of that august assembly, whose 
deliberations, marked alike by the boldness of truth and the 
calmness of wisdom, resulted in the solemn declaration of the 
independence of the American states. Where, through the 
world's long history, shall we find an assembly like this? 
Where shall we go to reach the same elevation above the in- 
fluences of unhallowed ambition, and of selfish and personal 
views? Where shall we climb to breathe an atmosphere so 
pure and invigorating to high resolve and undoubting pur- 
pose, as that w^hich fills the old hall in which they are met in 
solemn council? Let us turn for a moment to the individuals 
of that immortal group, in whose presence we seem to stand. 
We see there the broad, calm forehead of Franklin, whose 
philosophic mind grasped with equal force the principles of 
human government and the laws of mighty nature. There, 
too, sits the elder Adams, whose fiery and stirring eloquence 
kindles in the assembly stern indignation at the oppressor, 
and animates its deliberations with a quenchless zeal for free- 



dom. By his side is Jefferson, destined to become the great 
apostle of republican liberty, whose clear vision pierced the 
shadows which hang over the future, and perceived the popu- 
lar wants and popular tendencies that time has ripened into 
history. There, too, sits Hancock, the princely merchant and 
ardent patriot, ready to put his life and his ample fortune 
in peril to secure the independence of his country. And 
there, too, are Lee, and Rutledge, and Livingston, all honor- 
ed names. None are there but those worthy to wear the 
green chaplet of undying fame. 

To understand fully the noble boldness and inflexible reso- 
lution of this assembly, it is necessary to consider the condi- 
tion of affairs then existing. Although the colonies were 
standing in an attitude of hostility to Great Britain, and their 
feelings were, in a degree, alienated from her, still the irre- 
trievable step had not been taken. The avenues of return to 
obedience and loyalty had not been blocked up. Thousands 
of the people of the colonies still looked to conciliation with 
anxious hope. The oppressive exactions and arbitrary con- 
duct of the unnatural mother, had not yet worn out from the 
hearts of the children the sentiments of respect and love. A 
thousand ties — the dearest, the strongest, still bound the colo- 
nies to the land from which they came. It was no ordinary 
struggle when such ties were to be fully and forever sundered. 
Now mark the grandeur of the spectacle, as the men of this 
assembly, rising above every consideration, save the great 
principles to which they had devoted themselves, and the true 
interests of the common cause, take the pen to sign the in- 
strument which declared the colonies to be free states. They 
did nothing in ignorance, for they knew full well the peril of 
the step they were about to take. They knew that this once 
taken consummated the crime of rebellion. There would be 
then no hope but in victory on the plain of battle. Failing 
in this, unconditional and abject submission w^ould be the 
only avenue of return to forfeited favor. After long and 
painful, but fearless deliberation, they signed the instrument, 
filled with 

Truths of power 



In words immortal : 

Words which bore the spirits of great deeds, 

Wina;'d for the future." 



8 

They were men of large hope and strong faith, and looked 
toward a brighter destiny for their country, than to rear sons 
to be " hewers of wood and drawers of water" for the Brit- 
ish crown. Trusting in the just cause, and the aid of that 
awful and unseen power, whose thunder shakes the battle 
field, and pours dismay upon the guilty, they threw away the 
scabbard of the unsheathed sword. They knew that every 
citizen would be a soldier — every arm would be nerved with 
double vigor, and every heart would beat with stronger pulsa- 
tions when the watch-cry should be, " liberty and independ- 
ence." They little feared either treason or cowardice in the 
ranks of men whose hearth-stones and whose father's graves 
were in sight of the fields of contest. 

It needs not that I enter into a recital of the events of that 
struggle which followed. They are garnered up in the me- 
mories of all. Even childhood is wont to grow familiar with 
the tale, and tells it to its fellows with lisping tongue. The 
grass grows green upon the plains of Saratoga, as year after 
year rolls on; but who has forgotten the day when its blades 
wore an ensanguined hue, and its roots drank in, the blood of 
the martyrs of liberty. The snows which bore the marks of 
the bare and bleeding feet of the soldiers of the revolution, 
have passed into the clouds which float above our land — into 
the streams which murmur through it, or the bosom of the 
oceans which lave its borders, but the American heart still 
beats with a keen sense of the terrible sufferings in which the 
foundations of our republic were laid. The heights of Bunker 
Hill are crowned with a noble monument, whose granite co- 
lumn may resist the tempests of centuries; but when at last it 
shall crumble under the consuming tooth of time, shall there 
not remain a more enduring monument, of the glory which 
clings around the summit of that hill, in the faithful memories 
of the American people? But, if the time shall ever come, 
when these events shall have lost their place in the national 
mind, how degenerate shall we have grown! We may then 
look to see if the bulwarks of our liberties are not swept 
away, and the republic tottering to its fall, and find the re- 
sult more terrible than our fears. When our faith in the re- 
public grows weak and is ready to fail, we can turn to these 



events and find strength to support a patriotic assurance. To 
these we can go for a guide and direction, when we wander 
in the mazes of political error. To these we can look for 
those bright examples, which kindle in the heart a high and 
pure emulation. Turning- to the history of these events, we 
see the portraits of lives, whose transparent beauty is unsul- 
lied by the slightest stain; bright instances of devotion to the 
republic, without regard to the rewards of wealth or ambition, 
and a heroism which stirs the spirit like the sound of a 
trumpet. Into this golden age of public and private virtue it 
is cheering to retreat, and indulge in high hopes of what man 
is capable of being and of doing. Who can wander here 
without an elevated and a chastened spirit? How does ve- 
nality shrink away from the terrible rebukes, which seem to 
fall upon its ear from the silent lips of the honored dead, to 
whom public virtue was dearer than the light of life? How 
can faction ever raise its clamors, or plot its treasons against 
the republic, amidst the glorious memories of that age? When 
these are forgotten, we shall have become faithless to every 
thing worth preserving in the institutions of our country, to 
ourselves, and to the grand interests of mankind. 

Shall we not, on every return of this hallowed anniversary, 
delight to do peculiar honor to the citizen soldiers, by whose 
bold hearts and strong arms our independence was secured; 
to those noble spirits, who, having felt the warm and high 
inspirations of liberty, without a murmur encountered toil, 
and danger, and suffering; and almost without clothes, with- 
out bread, without pay, rallied around the standard of their 
country, and bore it up, and bore it onward, till it floated in 
triumph on every hill, in every valley, and by every river's 
bank, in our broad and beautiful land. Then weary, poor and 
toil-worn, they yet rejoiced, for they were — freemen! This 
was a recompense for all they had done, and all they had suf- 
fered. His country, for which the soldier has periled life — 
has abandoned wife and child, and all the fond endearments 
of home, at length has gained repose and liberty. As he 
turns away from the starry standards under which he has 
fought so long — as he bids adieu to his comrades, made dear 
by fellowship in suffering and peril, tears fill his eye, and a 
2 



10 



keen pang shoots through his heart. But he thinks of home, 
and his scanty knapsack is soon upon his shoulder. Slowly 
and painfully he urges on his weary way, whilst his spirit 
flies on before, as if its panting eagerness could hear no de- 
lay. At length he has toiled over the intervening hills, and 
stands by the door which shuts his simple hearth-stone from 
view. His hand is on the latch. He enters once more his 
long-abandoned home. From that home how often has his 
wife looked out for his return, and wept that he came not. 
In that home how often has his boy prattled the name of fa- 
ther in his mother's ear, and by her teaching, whilst to that 
boy the face of the father was that of a stranger ! That wife and 
that boy are there, and there the strong current of a husband's 
and a father's love gushes out from the heart, as he clasps 
that wife and boy in one fond embrace. Think you not he 
was repaid for long years of absence in that single moment? 
Fancy, if you can, with what honest and exulting pride he 
tells in the ear of his wife, the story of his soldier-life — with 
what passionate eagernees she drinks in his words — how her 
tears fall at his tales of suffering, and her eyes glow over the 
recital of the terrors of some battle-field, in which he bore no 
bloodless part — how she presses him to her heart at last, and 
thanks the God who has preserved him, for his safe return. 

Time flies on, and that soldier becomes again a citizen, 
with only the memory of a soldier. But he delights through 
life to fight over again, and again, the battles of his youth 
and of liberty. Who has not marked the kindling eye of 
some grey-haired man of the revolution, as he told to his 
eager listeners his ■" hair-breadth escapes " from scenes of 
danger, and with glowing colors pictured the fiery strife in 
which he had mingled? Borne on by the current of his story, 
he has forgotten his age, the long lapse of time, the scenes 
of peace and domestic quiet which have intervened, and now 
lives and glows in the tumult and glory of the contest which 
he describes. His life is green again. His weakness is not 
felt. The palsy of age seems not to have frozen his blood. 
The tale runs on, and still he thinks not of what he is, but of 
what he was; not of what he has done in the quiet walks of 
peace, but in the fields where a nation struck for liberty, and 



11 



he amongst his brethren. At last, tired nature bids him pause, 
and the languid pulse and sinking spirit, warn him that he is 
no longer the strong limbed soldier, panting for new fields of 
glory, but a man worn and wasted by the fingers of age, and 
only fresh aud only young, in the unfading memories which he 
has cherished. 

Such a man as I have described I do well remember. I 
climbed upon his knees when a boy, and loved to listen to 
his stirring tales, though I could but half understand them 
There was something in the fervour and enthusiasm of the 
old soldier, which held my boyish heart entranced. From his 
lips I learned my first lessons of revolutionary history. He has 
gone to his rest and his reward. But I have not forgotten, 
nor can I ever forget, the stirring tales which sparkled in his 
feeble eye, and trembled upon his thin lips, as he uttered them. 
They are as vivid in my recollection as the events of yester- 
day, though long years have flown away, and I have passed 
from boyhood to manhood, since they fell upon my ear. The 
memory of these I would not exchange for the splendid crea- 
tions of the poet, or the labored deductions of philosophy. 
Is there one who has listened to the stories of that spirit-stir- 
ring time, and wept not when they who related them sank 
slowly to their graves? It is sad to watch the decay and fall 
of these, the early props of the republic. But the destiny of 
the race is theirs, and even the love and veneration of a whole 
people, can form no shield to protect them against " the shafts 
of the insatiate archer, death." Thinned now are the ranks 
that stood firm in the shock of battle; and as we look upon 
the few and scattered survivors, we see that their eyes are 
dim, their footsteps totter, and their hearts beat faintly with 
the slow pulses of decaying life. A little while, and we shall 
look for them in vain. They will all have passed away, to 
return not again; and we cannot stay their departure, though 
we feel that each silver hair which falls from their heads, to 
mingle with the dust, is a precious relic lost. 

It is a matter of regret that so much of the history of these 
men and of their times, is unwritten. They were the living 
chronicles of the events in which they mingled, but they 
were more familiar with the sword than the pen of history. 



12 



Hence many of the most interesting events in our early an- 
nals have forever passed away. As a nation, we have been 
too busy with the scenes of the present and the prospects of 
the future, to turn back, as often as we ought, to the glorious 
past in our history. The cry has been — 'onward! onward! 
and resistless energy has urged forward the steps of progress, 
until we have outstripped not only the sober precedents of 
history, but left even the dreams of the imagination behind us. 
But it is high time to pause in our rapid march to greatness, 
to gather up the priceless relics which lie scattered along the 
path we have trod, and trace more fully the records which 
may preserve them, from the oblivion into which they are 
sinking. The philosophy of our history is but half under- 
stood, even by our ourselves. Its full developement will be 
followed by results most beneficent to the great family of 
man. The grandest work of the statesman — the highest mis- 
sion of the philanthropist, is to enlighten, to elevate, and pu- 
rify the masses of society. At the basis of this work lies the 
establishment of security for the " natural and inalienable 
rights." So long as the iron heel of irresponsible power is 
pressed down upon the bosom of the many, how can they rise 
in the social scale? Every effort to advance is hedged about 
with restrictions — every hope is crushed with pains and pe- 
nalties. But, let the grand truth of the equality of political 
rights break clearly upon the mind even of a serf, and he be- 
comes a man. The leaden mould falls from his spirit. His 
arm is ready to strike, and his heart to suffer, to rescue his 
violated rights. He feels no longer that he was born only to 
breathe, to labor, and to die. The impulses of a better nature 
kindle his spirit, and a smiling future calls him on to action. 
He looks to the grand results of time to create a higher des- 
tiny for his race, when, nurtured under fostering influences, 
seeking the true aims, and guided by a faith large, active, 
and hopeful, they shall have established the great law of 
progress. 

If we turn to observe other revolutions which have agitated 
the world, we shall find that, in most instances, they have 
terminated, not in securing to the citizen his rights, but merely 
in changing the forms of oppression, or the number of op- 



13 

pressors. The masses still remained essentially as they were. 
The character of society does not necessarily undergo any 
chansre for the better, when thousands come out into the bat- 
tie plain with all " the pomp and circumstance of glorious 
war," having the magic word, " liberty," emblazoned on their 
banners. These contests do not, of necessity, give to society 
any new and enduring energies — nor purify, nor elevate, nor 
quicken the pulses of improvement. How much clearer is 
the vision of the nations for all the fires of military glory, 
which, under the war-cry of liberty, have been kindled upon 
the hill-tops of the world. To these we may look in vain 
for those active and deathless influences which improve and 
bless as they explore and pervade society, and which remain 
unwasted and unworn as generation after generation passes 
away from the earth. 

What mighty changes have played over our land since the 
birth-day of its freedom! As we turn to observe them, the 
mind almost fails under the burthen which presses upon it. 
Within this period the works of centuries have been done. 
Too impatient to wait for the slow results of time, we have 
rushed on and anticipated them. The sturdy oaks, the lofty 
pines, and towering elms of our primeval forests, have been 
swept away as by the fury of a tornado, and the earth that 
bore them has become the fruitful mother of a luxuriant ve- 
getation. Sweeping from the Atlantic borders towards the 
Pacific, the tide of population has flowed on, and will not be 
stayed till the whole vast territory between these ocean limits 
is subdued by cultivation, and covered with the myriads of a 
free and a teeming people. Soon the timid wild deer will 
be startled from his last shady retreat, and the buffalo be 
driven into the deep waters of the Pacific. Soon the last 
hunting grounds of the Indian warrior will be covered with 
the golden harvest, and he — where shall he find a home suit- 
ed to his wild nature and wandering tastes? Dark and sad is 
the fate which presses upon the remnants of the tribes, that 
once roamed free and wild, through the boundless forests that 
covered our land. We cannot but feel a deep and touching inte- 
rest in these dwindling relics of a noble though barborous race; 
but how can we avert their mournful destiny? The march 



14 



of human progress will not be stayed, and they who resist it 
must fall before it. 

Turning our eyes to the future, how grand a vision is pre- 
sented to the view, in our country's advancing march to great- 
ness. As we look, we see a vast expanse of territory marked 
by striking natural beauty and most abundant fertility. Scenes 
fitted to charm the taste and stir the spirit, scattered every 
where wdth the boundless prodigality of nature. Wide fields, 
for the play of successful enterprize, and for the researches of 
the man of science, where the grand and the graceful, the 
wild and the picturesque, in towering mountain — in flowing 
stream — in verdant valley- — in luxuriant flower-crowned prai- 
rie, are mingled in profusion together. We observe a peo- 
ple, whose sleepless energies urge on the course of improve- 
ment with unexampled celerity. See with what resistless 
force and vigor they seize upon and develop the vast resources 
which are spread over our land, only waiting to be unlocked 
by the sturdy hand of enterprize, to teem w4th unmeasured 
stores of wealth. See how towering cities rise and grow full 
of life, and vocal with the tiiousand sounds of industry, as if 
created by the power of some mighty enchantment. Having 
the noble memories of the past to incite, and the smiling 
prospects of the future to encourage, in the achievement of a 
destiny more grand than any which the world has seen, how 
can we fail of reaching the gilded summit of national emi- 
nence — of beino; for all future time, the model from which 
shall be moulded the forms of polity — 'the institutions of 
civil freedom, as nation after nation shall rise from its long 
sleep of bondage, and seek for examples to guide in the pur- 
suit of a stable and well-regulated liberty. But woe to the 
world if we shall fail of accomplishing our true destiny! A 
gloom will gather — a darkness spread over the great society 
of man, when the light of this republic shall be blotted out. 
But we may smile at the fears of such a catastrophe. The 
omens are bright and auspicious. When century after cen- 
tury shall have rolled away, millions yet unborn shall gather 
from hill and valley, on this festival day, to sing peans of re- 
joicing over the birth of American liberty, and our country 
still present 



15 



" A form sublime 
Of polity, that 'midst the wrecks of time 
Secure shall lift its head on high, nor fear 
The assaults of foreign or domestic crime. 
While public faith and public love sincere, 
And industry and law maintain their way severe." 

But I cannot suffer this occasion to pass without indulging 
in some remarks, addressed to those to whom we owe the plea^ 
sures of this joyous festival, and who grace it with their pre- 
sence. Wherever we trace the influences of woman in the 
movements of society, we meet the pure, the graceful, and 
the becoming. Her hand touches no work that it does not 
adorn — her heart animates no enterprize that does not either 
alleviate the sorrows, or brighten the virtues, or purify the 
hopes of the great family of which she forms the gentler and 
the better part. She watches by the couch of suffering, and 
her tender ministrations bring the tide of health back to the 
fevered pulse. She stands by the bed of death, and angel^ 
like points to the departing spirit, the way to a better land. 
She kneels by the cradle of the child, and commits his help- 
lessness to the care of Almighty strength. She whispers in 
the ear of the boy lessons of goodness — words of power 
which cling around the heart, and bear a charm against temp- 
tation amid all the scenes of coming life. Her smiles kindle 
blazes of gladness around our paths. Her sympathies mingling 
with our griefs, lighten the burthen and soften the gloom. 
Without her presence, sadness reigns amid the scenes of fes- 
tivity. The lights are dim — the garlands are faded — the 
music charms not. As she works out her tasks of peace and 
gentleness and love, the rough elements of society are soften- 
ed — the gross are purified — the weak are strengthened. She 
wants not either that lofty heroism, which will do and suffer 
every thing in a great cause. Her gentleness gives place, at 
times, to a lofty enthusiasm; and her softness, to that high 
endurance, which shrinks not at the approach of pain, or the 
touch of torture. Her patriotism has never felt the breath of 
suspicion. To her country, in times of peace or of peril, she 
cherishes the warmest devotion. Her labors of love — her 
deep self-denial — her prayers, poured out from a pure heart, 
for the just cause, in what annals are they written? and yet how 
abundant they were in the long struggle for American liberty ! 



16 

That devotion, ever vrarra and ever true, glows to-day in this 
assembly, and wherever the pulses of life beat in the hearts 
of the fair daughters of the republic. To it we owe this fes- 
tival scene. And here let me render, from my heart, grateful 
thanks to the ladies of my native town, to whose kind remem- 
brance I am indebted for the enjoyment of this occasion. 
Having been long too much of an exile from my native 
scenes, I feared that I came to be regarded but as a stranger 
here. But the w^armth and kindness of my reception have 
relieved my fears. Standing here to-day among my native 
hills, I am again a boy in feeling — again at home. When 
long years of absence have passed away, and we return once 
more to visit the scenes of our boy-life, of our play-day en- 
joyments, how sweet and touching are the recollections which 
come thronging upon the mind, and press around the heart. 
The spirit which feels not the charm of these, is dull and 
cold. Who would envy that impassive nature which is not 
stirred with deep emotion, when the memories of early life are 
awakened by the sight of old familiar scenes — of hill, and 
wood, and stream, and of the familiar faces which smiled 
upon the hours of boyhood. To the sight of such scenes and 
faces, not a few whom I now see before me, are this day 
restored. Let me say, on behalf of all these pilgrims to the 
shrine of home, that we have come to brighten the links of 
memory, to dig deeper the fountains of love, and to open our 
hearts wide, to enjoy the glad fellowship which surrounds us. 



7. Music. 

8. Benediction. 



THE DINNER. 



After the exercises at the church were closed, the assem- 
bly moved in procession, accompanied by national flags and a 
band of music, to the beautiful grounds of the Messrs. Law- 
rence, where an elegant repast had been prepared by the la- 
dies. The first flag was borne by a veteran of the revolution, 
who carried arms at the capture of Burgoyne, and was engao-- 
_ ed in many other battles of the war of independence. The 
sight of this venerable old soldier, and the enthusiasm with 
which he entered into the celebration, was affecting, and add- 
ed greatly to the interest of the day. 

The natural beauties of the spot were greatly increased by 
the exertions of volunteers who had been occupied for several 
days previous in clearing the grove, erecting rustic brido-es 
across the creek, and various other preparations. Extensive 
circular tables had been erected under the shadow of venera- 
ble trees near the bank of the stream, across which, and di- 
rectly back of the president's seat rose a beautiful mountain, 
which, with the rich foliage of its dense forest, formed an 
elegant back-ground to the picture, while in front were seen 
the village spire, private residences, flower gardens, verdant 
fields, and nearer by the bower and tents of the Picnic party. 

The following gentlemen had been designated as president 
and vice-presidents at the dinner: 

Rev. T. WooDBRmoE, President. 
Vice-Presidents. 

C. B. DuTCHER, Esq., A. P. Holdridge, Esq., 

Chauncey Dickerman, Ebenezer Reed. 
3 



18 



After some progress had been made in the dinner, the pre^ 
sident rose and said: 

Ladies and Gentlemen — We will now proceed to a more 
interesting stage of our festivities. We have given a little time 
to the refection of the body ; let us now enter upon " the feast 
of reason and the flow of soul." The scene will now be en- 
livened with sentiments, songs and speeches. You will have 
the goodness to prepare for the first regular sentiment.* 

THE DAY WE CELEBRATE. 

Which was received with hearty cheers, and followed by a 
song from the ladies. 

Hail ! all hail ! thou merry, merry day : 
We will hasten to the woods away, 
Among the flowers so sweet and gay. 
Then away to hail this merry, merry day. 

This merry, merry day ; 
Then away to hail this merry independence day. 

Hark ! hark! hark ! to hail this merry day, 
How the songsters warble on each spray ! 
And we will be as blithe as they. 
Then away to hail this merry, merry day, 

This merry, merry day ; 
Then away to hail this merry independence day. 

Second regular sentiment: 

The PREsmENT of the United States^ 

Sentiment 3d: 

The Governor of the Empire State. 
Sentiment 4th: 

The Memory of Washington. 
Received standing — dirge by the band. 
Sentiment 5th: 

The Natives of Spencehtown — Who have returned to mingle with us 
in the festivities of this occasion. We welcome them back to the place of 
their childhood. We trust they will find this a delightful and a memorable 
day ; and that the influence t)f scenes and associations in which we are novV 
mingling, will draw more closely the cord which binds them to their native 
home. 

[Here the audience joined in one stanza of the beautiful song, " Home ! 
sweet home !"] 

* It may be proper to state, that the appointed order at the table was some- 
what interrupted by the unfavorable circumstances of the day. A few of the 
speakers were prevented by the lateness of the hour and the threatening 
state of the weather, from maJcing extended remarks. 

Efforts have been made, in preparing this sketch, to follow, as far as possi* 
ble, the original plan. 



19 



George W. Parsons, Esq., of New-York, a native of this 
town, being called upon by the president, responded to this 
sentiment. 

Mr. Parsons^s Remarks. 

Mr. President — I shall not say to you that I came here un- 
prepared to respond to the important, and, to me, most flatter- 
ing call, embraced in the sentiment just read; and for two 
reasons: First, because, in my opinion, that apology is quite 
too common to be proper; and secondly, because the few 
words I shall say will convince you of that fact more tho- 
roughly than any assertion of mine. 

But, as I am a native — " to the manor born" — I have a 
right to be heard; and although " I am no orator as Brutus 
is " (turning to the orator of the day), yet I am too proud of 
the opportunity to let it pass without a word; and, to quote 
again from the great poet, I'll speak, 

" Though I only speak right on, 
And tell you that which you, yourselves, do know." 

I should have been most happy on this interesting occa- 
sion to have remained a quiet and contented observer, and for 
various reasons. First, because, in all my brief minglings 
" in the war of life," I have not as yet forgotten one of the 
favorite, and, perhaps, most necessary injunctions of my mo- 
ther, viz. that in older company little folk should he seen and 
not heard; and I can assure you that it is not very humili- 
ating to my pride to apply this item of maternal instruction 
to myself on this occasion, after listening as we all have done 
to-day, to eloquence of such noble and manly growth — of such 
pure and chastened tone. 

I should have been satisfied to remain a quiet spectator of 
these scenes for another reason: Because, my heart and my 
memory have been too busy with the past — too full of the 
hallowed associations which this spot, these scenes, and these 
familiar faces have caused to rush up within. 

It is not a time for melancholy reflections, and therefore I 
will not intrude upon your attention the keen sense of pain- 
ful emotion I have felt, in casting my eye around, to discover 
that, even during ray brief absence, " Time's erasing finger " 



20 



has been busy in your midst. But in the moment I shall de- 
tain you, I would rather speak of the brighter tints of those 
reflections and associations. 

To me, who in all my brief wanderings have found no spot 
so cherished and dear to my heart as the green hill sides 
around us, and the valley where we are met — I say, to me 
it is a matter of pride and exultation to find my native town 
keeping pace with the rapid stride of the age in all things; 
and not least among them, in the high-toned and fitting man- 
ner of celebrating this, the birth-day of our great and glo- 
rious country. It is likewise a subject of self-gratulation to 
me, to find here, as elsewhere, among the influences which 
have brought about this auspicious result, the magic touch of 
woman's delicate wand. And this brings me to the sentiment 
I have to offer: 

The Influence of Woman — What, though she was the first in a moment 
of weakness to yield to infernal artifice, yet is her finger-mark pre-eminent 
in all the beautiful, redeeming, and heavenly traceries of virtue, charity, and 
atfection. 

6th regular sentiment: 

The Orator of the Day — The sight of his native hills has given him 
pew inspiration. 

To which Mr. Gott responded as follows: 

Mr. GoWs Remarks. 
Mr. President — I cannot express the deep gratification I 
feel at the mention of my name in connection with the grand 
and beautiful forms of nature which surround us. These, sir, 
were the school of my boyhood, and I was most fortunate in 
being placed in this department of " the school of mighty na- 
ture " — that school 

" O'er which ancient Heaven 
Extends its arch for all, and mncks the space 
Of palaces and dungeons ; where tlie heart, 
In its free beatings 'neath the coarsest vest. 
Claims kindred with divinest things." 

These scenes have ever seemed to me " instinct with a 
beautiful life," which drew me into fellowship with them. As 
I stand here to-day, and feel the gush of early memories burst- 
ing freshly out, I am sad when I think how many voices that 
once fell softly upon my ear are still — how many eyes that 



21 



beamed with kindness upon me are sealed in " the long 
sleep" — how many hearts have ceased their beatings, whose 
sympathies I once enjoyed! But the forms of nature suffer 
not from the shocks of change. These hills seem to look 
down upon me not less kindly — this valley is not less green 
and fair — and the murmur of the stream which flows at our 
feet, is not less musical, than they were long years ago. I 
trust, sir, that the memories of this day will be linked w^ith 
the hills, the valley, the stream, which we all love to look 
upon, and thus be preserved from the fading touches of time. 
And now, sir, I will crave your permission to bring for- 
ward a matter of no trifling importance. The assertion of the 
gentleman who preceded me (Mr. S.), that the orator of the 
day had flattered the fair ladies of this assembly too much, 
seemed to me so sensible and so just, that I have determined, 
out of regard for " the honest truth," to present now the 
other side of the picture, painful as the task will prove. I 
hope, sir, no one will be startled when I say, that I have 
very grave and serious charges to make against the whole 
sisterhood; and I trust that you, and all who are present, will 
listen with strict attention as I proceed to arraign them at the 
bar of public opinion. The charges which I bring I am pre- 
pared to prove so conclusively as to leave no doubt of their 
truth in the minds of any. I shall present and prove these 
charges in order. First, then, sir, I charge upon the sex that 
from the time when our good mother Eve bore gentle sway 
over a lordly heart, in every age, in every country, in every 
clime, and under every variety of circumstances, they have 
been the sworn and banded enemies of the liberty of man. 
[Here the speaker was interrupted by a gentleman from 
^' down east," claiming a " brother's " sympathy in the senti- 
ment just uttered, although protesting against the speaker's 
occupying his (the down caster's) ow^n grounds. This is the 
very speech I had intended to make.] The speaker regretted 
the unfortunate coincidence, and proceeded: In order to over- 
power and enslave the legitimate lords of creation, they have 
brought into the field a more terrible artillery than ever mow- 
ed down the frowning ranks of battle — an artillery of killing 
glances, of murderous sighs, and overwhelming tears. This 



22 



artillery lias played, without ceasing, upon men who scorned 
to be slaves, and yet were forced to yield to a superior foe. 
How many and how unavailing the efforts of resistance, let 
every heart of man bowed into meek submission, sadly tell! 
And now, sir, let me ask, is there a beaming eye present, 
through which, as the window of the soul, this relentless pur- 
pose of enslaving our sex does not shine out? Is there a 
" balmy lip" here which will refuse to utter a confession of 
the truth of this charge? I read the confession in the tell- 
tale glances of the circle around me, and hear the murmur, 
" we are all guilty," fall from their lips. I will, therefore, 
proceed to the second count in my indictment. This count 
charges the sex with a crime, which is not indeed like the 
first, a capital one, and punishable with death; but is of 
an inferior grade, and by the civil code bears a lighter pen- 
alty. It charges them, sir, with larceny — both grand and 
petit larceny. It is said in this count that they have, in in- 
stances innumerable, stolen man's richest inheritance, his 
heart. If need be, I, myself, could bear ample testimony to 
the truth of this charge; for they have stolen my heart, sir, 
mine, " and left me poor indeed!" But I w411 call another 
witness upon the stand. I call upon the gentleman, who, 
with so little ceremony, has broken in upon my speech, and 
sought to bear away my laurels, to say if this charge be not 
true, to his own knowledge and sad experience? [The gen- 
tleman appealed to gave his assent, and said he agreed with 
the speaker, although his speech interfered with the part he 
had intended for himself in the play.] The speaker proceeded: 
The third count in this indictment charges upon woman a 
capital and most awful crime, the crime of murder — of mur- 
der in the first degree. For proof of this charge, I could 
call upon thousands, who, wuth aching hearts, have laid upon 
their beds, and through the long still watches of the night, 
have sought in vain "tired nature's sweet restorer," until they 
have been forced to exclaim of their too, too fair tormentors, 
"they have murdered sleep!" Of my own sufferings, sir, I 
could tell tales that would draw tears from the fair eyes pre- 
sent, but I forbear. [Here the " down easter " before men- 
tioned broke in upon the speaker, and said he, too, had suffer- 



23 



ed, and could bear testimony to the truth of what had been 
said, although it was provoking to be forced to do so after 
the speaker had destroyed his " frost work " of a maiden 
speech, prepared with much care at the suggestion of the 
president.] And now, Mr. President, I turn these fair cul- 
prits over to you, to be dealt with according to your good 
pleasure, trusting that you will look upon their offences "more 
in sorrow than in anger." 

[What! all, sir? — turn them all over to the president? 
This is too much for a bachelor to witness, and not endeavor 
to rescue some one of them from his clutches. I will not al- 
low them all to be turned over into the hands of the presi- 
dent, (exclaimed the gentleman from "down east"); but, 
sir (continued he), notwithstanding all this, still we are 
" twin brothers " in sentiment.] 

7th regular sentiment: 

The Fathers of the Revolution'- — They shook off the incumbrances of 
oppression " like dew drops from the lion's mane." 

Judge HoLDRmoE was called upon to respond to this sen- 
timent, but it was ascertained that unforseen events had called 
him out of town. 

Mr. Camp was then called upon, and responded as follows: 

Mr. Camp'^s Remarks. 

Yes, Mr. President, let us all respond with grateful emo- 
tions. May their example be a beacon in guiding us onward, 
and lighting up the path-way of duty. It may not be amiss, 
on this occasion, to go back in thought to the days of our re- 
volution, and reflect upon the trying scenes of those days, and 
call up before us those mighty spirits that participated in that 
momentous contest which gave to us our freedom. Yes, let us 
for a few moments contemplate and briefly review the past, 
and, if possible, duly appreciate their great toil and peril 
consequent upon that glorious revolution, the fruits of which 
we are this day enjoying. Particularly let us dwell upon the 
memory of those of our venerated fathers, who had the nerve 
and moral courage to pen and sign the immortal declaration 
of our independence — that sacred instrument which proclaim- 



24 



ed to the world these important principles, " that all men are 
created equal, and endowed by their Creator with certain in- 
alienable rights, among which are life, liberty, and the pur- 
suit of happiness." 

Do we, Mr. President, the recipients of that noble heritage, 
bequeathed us by our fathers, fully appreciate its cost, its 
worth? I fear not. Millions made free by the mighty exer- 
tions of our patriotic fathers, are this day convened, and in their 
own chosen way celebrating our national anniversary, protected 
by the constitution of our common country: a document, I hope 
and trust, revered by all, and of which every American may 
well feel proud; a document not designed by our fathers for 
the benefit of the few at the expense of the many, but for the 
great good of all mankind, defining and limiting the power of 
our rulers, and securing to every person civil, religious, and 
political privileges; and under w^hich, America, a wilderness 
of but yesterday, is now a mighty and powerful nation, em- 
bracing a vast territory of almost every variety of soil — 
abundant in her resources, which are being developed by the 
industry and enterprise of a free people. 

Yes, sir, our prosperity as a nation is unequalled in the en- 
tire history of man. American genius and enterprise are 
everywhere displayed and pervading, in a variety of ways, the 
whole habitable globe. Our commerce is traversing the bound- 
less ocean, .and her canvass whitening every sea. Our armies 
are found equal to any emergency in conflict w^ith the most 
experienced officers and soldiers of Europe; and our states- 
men are also found equal in diplomatic intercourse to the most 
sagacious and talented men of the old w^orld. The genius of 
our free institutions has developed the inexhaustible resources 
of a noble race, and fully demonstrated to the w^orld that 
man is capable of self-government. It is under them, with 
the favor of an over-ruling Providence, that we, as a nation, 
have so signally prospered. The impress of American enter- 
prise is marked in every sphere of life — 'Our civil and religi- 
ous institutions are advancing rapidly to eminence, and on all 
sides our happiness and progress are onward — God speed ! 

For all these blessings, Mr. President, it should not be for- 
gotten that we are mainly indebted to the courage, sagacity,- 



25 



and united wisdom of our revolutionary fathers ; and may we, 
the sons and daughters of those worthy sires, be found equal 
to preserving and perpetuating to our posterity the priceless 
boon of our inheritance — the blessings of liberty. 
I conclude, Mr. President, with this sentiment: 

The Tree of Liberty — Planted in the American forest, and nourished by 
the blood of our patriot fathers — may the sons and daughters of America long 
preserve and perpetuate it. 

Eighth regular sentiment: 

The Mothers or the Revolution — They toiled in the field while their 
husbands and sons fought the battles of their country. 

To this sentiment Mr. J. Bingham, of Boston, responded as 
follows: 

Mr. Bingham^s Remarks. 

It is good for us, Mr. President, to be here, in this silent 
sanctuary of nature, to render up our offerings in this social 
manner for the return of this anniversary. " If there be a spot 
which would, of itself, inspire a man with elequence " wor- 
thy this occasion, surely, sir, " it is the one we now occupy;" 
for it is amid scenes of unsurpassed beauty, awakening echoes 
of the past affecting and salutary. The associations of this 
spot bring to mind many a thrilling incident — many a legend 
which time will not allow me to recapitulate — much that is 
connected with the history of those who lived and acted in 
the trying scenes of the revolution. 

It is the land of the Indian — of the pioneer. His foot- 
prints stained with blood, he hewed his way into its dark 
wilderness forest. The grave of that Indian is under the tall 
grass of the valley which conceals and waves over it! A so- 
litary overshadowing oak marks the place. Birds nestle there 
in leafy coverts, singing wild woodland melodies from sunlit 
branches. A gurgling stream's murmuring sound, 
" Blent oft v\ ith leaf-notes from iti bank," 

adds its music to the lone spot of a warrior's grave. That 
pioneer's is deep within the soil he subdued — " 'tis but a step 
down yonder lane." But his imperishable deeds speak within 
us trumpet-tongued. That soil is your inheritance. It is the 
scene of present abundance. Take care of it! The tribe of 
that Indian seek happy hunting grounds. The inhabitants of 
4 



26 



that land seek wealth and honors. Let them have a care! 

I hardly need remind you that we are in the western val- 
ley of the Taconic range of mountains, which overshadow 
those secluded and retired haunts where many a tale of pas- 
sion, of patient love and enduring fortitude have had their 
origin. They are yet to find a place in story and in song. 
We are here to-day, sir, to speak of and cherish their remem- 
brance, record their value, and be instructed by their teach- 
ings. 

But, alas! Mr. President, although within the influence of 
such associations, the eloquence which they are calculated to 
inspire is not for such an one as myself. It must come, as it 
has done to-day, breathing from other lips — from those I see 
around me who were cradled in these scenes of beauty and 
loveliness. 

But I must pass over these allusions — these fragmentary 
thoughts — for my time is short, and the subject so engross- 
ing, as rather to master me than I it. 

Passing on to matters more directly personal, I have an 
account to settle with the gentleman I see sitting so smilingly 
at your right [bowing to the orator of the day]; and if in the 
warfare — the merry warfare which I propose to have with 
that gentleman who has so felicitously preceded me, I may 
seem to trespass too far upon his feelings, I trust I shall re- 
ceive that, absolution which is always due to honest and 
friendly intentions. 

You requested, Mr. President, and I agreed to deliver a 
right good set speech, according to Hamlet's advice, " trip- 
pingly on the tongue;" and I see some friends near me, 
anxiously expecting that maiden effort. But, sir, it is in 
vain; it does not, and it cannot come. And for this most co- 
gent reason — that that gentleman has, with what intent he 
best knows, "taken the wind from out my sails!" He has 
played the part I was to have performed; and for his beauti- 
ful tribute to female loveliness and virtue, he, I fear, will re- 
ceive the reward of those approving smiles, which it was my 
highest ambition to have gained, for 

" The smile of beauty is the wreath of fame." 

But, sir, I have " another shot in the locker," in the shape 



27 



of a letter and its enclosure, from a gifted child of New Eng- 
land, which I have just received, and beg leave to present. 

The entire letter, although a very interesting and flattering 
one, I have not time to read. A single extract will suffice. 

" Your letter found me so busily engaged, that it was im- 
possible to comply but in part with your request. I have co- 
pied, with the addition of one new stanza never written be- 
fore, two of my best fourth of July pieces, which I send; 
thanking you for having done more than the pseudo prophet 
of Mecca could do. You have by your description brought 
those mountains, valleys, rocks, and hills to me." 

One of these odes I will now read, Mr. President, and re- 
serve the other for a farther stage of our proceedings should 
time permit. 

COLUMBIA'S BIRTH DAY. 

We hail Columbia's natal day ! 

And see its glories shine 
To light the votive gifts we lay 

At freedom's holy shrine : 
This hallowed day our fathers gave 

The shout of " liberty !" 
That echo far o'er land and wave 
Proclaimed their country free ! 

They fearless then the battle braved. 

And stood the haughty foe ; 
Where light and high their banner waved, 

They laid oppression low : 
They laid oppression in the dust. 

And up the vaulted sky. 
To God, their strength, their guide and trust, 

They sent their peans high. 

But warm the noble hearts that bled 

Where freedom's vot'ries knelt ! 
Her altar's flame with life was fed. 

Their foreign chains to melt. 
In blood and death our laurels grew 

With verdure ne'er to cease ; 
They shone, impearled with sorrow's dew, 

Beside the branch of peace ! 

On piercing thorns our fathers trod, 

In this bright land of ours. 
To moisten for their sons the sod 

Now strewed with fruits and flowers. 
Then, sacred be our liberty ! 

And may its glory beam 
On every wave that man shall see 

Of Time's resistless stream ! 



28 

We bid the children keep in sight 

The spirit of the sire — 
To hold the watch-tower, and to light 

Batimes the beacon-fire. 
We bid the millions, who shall rise 

When we have passed away, 
With joy to hail and duly prize 

Columbia's natal day. 

Mr. President — In conclusion, let me give you, the health, 
prosperity, and happiness of Miss Hannah F. Gould, the 
poetess of New England. 

Mr. C. M. ScHOLEFiELD, being loudly called for, made the 
following remarks: 

Mr. Scholejield's Remarks. 
Mr. President — My limited knowledge of the English lan- 
guage renders it impossible for me to express by words the 
deep emotions that swell my heart, and struggle for utterance 
on this occasion. My strongest emotion is deep, soul-felt 
gratitude — gratitude to the Ruler of my fate, for the privilege 
of meeting this happy throng of valued friends on this joy- 
ous occasion. Every one has an outstretched hand, a wel- 
coming smile, and an earnest word of kindness. For we all 
feel and rejoice in the feeling that we are children of free- 
dom, and have all come hither, sisters and brothers, to cele- 
brate the anniversary of our parent's birth. Grateful I also 
feel to those immortal heroes who bought this country by 
" dropping their blood for drachms," and then gave it all to 
us. Soldiers! your heroic Vvar-cry still thrills the hearts of 
your admiring descendants. Sailors! who trod for us the 
gory deck — whose choicest blood tinged the foam of many a 
sea — whose exploits in life, and patriotic exclamations in 
death, are the world's example, and the hope of the despair- 
ing. To you we would render our deepest gratitude and our 
most earnest veneration. 

My grateful acknowledgements are also due to those kind 
friends who invited me to share in the festivities of this day. 
Words are poor and weak to express the deep sense of the 
obligations (infinite in their variety and extent), that I am 
under to this society. May my heart's best wish be granted, 
that I may repay them. Mr. President, I will be brief. 

Monarchs tremble when they hear of our rejoicings at the 



29 

annual return of the birth-day of freedom. The light of lib- 
erty is dissolving the mist that enshrouds their realms. Their 
destiny is sealed, their crowns are crumbling, and their brows 
are clouded, while 

" Laurels wreathe the names 
Of" those who for our country rose and cast 
Oppression down. That act through time will last, 
The Ararat of history: On whose brow 
The sacred ark of liberty stood fast. 
Sunned in the truth, while the tame, turbid flow 
Of slaver} 's deluge spread o'er all the world below." 

One word to the ladies, and I have done. I will not flat- 
ter them; that has been done long enough. But I will say 
that having resided for five years in this beautiful village, and 
never in that time having seen our starry banner float, or 
heard the honest cannon shout in welcome to this glorious 
day, it is fit that I should thank these noble ladies for this sump- 
tuous feast, this joyous celebration. Ah, my brethren, you were 
asleep till woman rose and aroused you to your duty. 

And did she rise ? 
She rose, she burst the bands of sleep, 
Rekindling freedom's fire ! 
Then, then you rose; then first your manhood 
Triumphant passed the barriers of your sloth, 
And lit your altars too. 
Freedom, all immortal, hail! hail! 
Woman, all lavish in her gifts to us ; 
Theirs all this glory — ours the boundless bliss. 

I give you this sentiment: 

The President of the Day — Too well known to need any comments on 
his life — too well beloved to need any eulogy. May he live to witness im- 
provements in science, until he can sit in his quiet study here, and preach a 
sermon by magnetic telegraph to his former congregation in Boston. 

Ninth regular sentiment: 

Our Valley and our Hills— Glad with fertility and radiant with beauty, 
they impart a sunny hue to the minds of their sons and daugliters. 

" Sweet vale ! I'll not forget thee ; 
Time shall only teach my heart 
Fonder, warmer to regret thee. 
Lovely, gentle as thou art." 

Tenth regular sentiment: 

The Pioneers of Spencertown — A noble race of men. Their strong 
hands laid the foundations of our goodly heritage. 

Mr. Henry E. Niles was called upon to respond to this 
sentiment. 



30 



Mr. JViles's Remarks. 

I feel highly honored, Mr. President, in being called to re- 
spond to the sentiment which has just been given. As it is 
a pleasure to recall the memory of our fathers, so it is also a 
privilege to recount and admire their virtues. And the scenes 
and associations of this day abundantly confirmed the belief 
that love of country and veneration for the worthy men who 
laid the foundations of our civil and social institutions, are 
among the deepest and noblest affections of the human breast. 

What else could have assembled this multitude under these 
inauspicious skies, and so brightened every eye — renewed the 
decay of years and the infirmities of age — so animated and 
confirmed the hopes of the youthful — so harmonized and hal- 
lowed all our feelings! 

From our several avocations and places of abode, we have 
gathered here to-day, to mingle our rejoicings around the al- 
tar of our common country, and to exchange congratulations 
at our childhood's home. We have come to recount our 
blessings as citizens of this highly favored land, and to dwell 
with delight upon our peculiar privileges in past days, as re- 
sidents of this beautiful and quiet town. 

We love this goodly village — this valley and these hills — 
this murmuring stream — these rocks and glens — all these 
scenes which are so indelibly associated with the recollection 
of our early joys. We know that here nature reveals some 
of her loveliest forms, and holds out to us some of her most 
touching lessons; and as, from time to time, we revisit these 
scenes, with all the wanderer's joy, and all the poet's enthu- 
siasm, we can feel that this, our home, is 

"A spot of earth supremely blest; 

A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest." 

It is the privilege of this hour to bring together the past 
and the present — to enforce our obligations to the venerable 
living and the sainted dead. There are hoary heads now 
among us, and others, the silent sleepers in yonder grave- 
yard, to whom we owe a debt of especial reverence and gra- 
titude. There repose the names of Whitmore, and Spencer, 
and Lawrence, the sturdy pioneers who first came over those 



31 

eastern hills, felled the primeval forests, and enkindled here 
the lights of civilization and Christianity. Soon they were 
succeeded by the Deans, the Pratts, the Nileses, and the 
GoTTS — men who came here on the same great mission, to 
do what Lord Bacon calls foundation icork — to frame what 
is now our goodly heritage. They, too, are gone, and side 
by side, yonder, surrounded by the monuments of their own 
enlightened liberality,* 

" Each in his narrow cell forever laid. 
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." 

These are men to whom our grateful remembrances are 
due. Honored be their memories and their deeds! — honored 
their noble, generous principles! — their wise, far-sighted, 
liberal policy! — honored be the whole race of men to which 
they belonged, and of which they were an index! 

Our fathers were liberty-seeking, bible-loving, and God- 
fearing men. They knew what were the surest elements of a 
strong and well-organized republican government. And after 
having established it at so great expense of treasure, of toil 
and blood, they were careful to accompany it with other in- 
stitutions which were essential to its preservation, and to hand 
them down, side by side, unimpaired, to their children. Their 
fixed policy was not to form a new state — not to establish 
simply a new church — but to encourage learning and culti- 
vate true religion: the last pre-eminent, and the first essen- 
tial. Hence, no sooner was the foundation stone of the church 
laid, than the school-house and the college arose, and together 
they stood as monuments of enlightened Christian policy. 
Our ancestors thought not of parties nor of sects, but of the 
union of warm hearts and strong arms for the establishment 
of whatever was high, and noble, and enduring. 

To this generation, then, it remains to carry out and per- 
petuate what they so nobly begun. Let us continue to culti- 
vate learning and cherish religion: these are the true founda- 
tions of government, the conservative elements of society; 

* John Dean was the generous contributor of the land which is occupied by 
the church edifice and grave yard ; while the church itself, and the old aca- 
demy across the street, are sufficient proof of the united liberality of the 
earlv settlers. 



32 

and, under their benign influence, what can hinder or with- 
stand our upward and triumphant national progress. 

I give you, Mr. President, this sentiment: '.| 

Learning and Religion — The only securities of civil liberty. 

Music being again called for, the ladies here responded by 
singing the following piece: 

" Oh ! sweet is my dear native valley to me, 
Which in childhood I left, a poor wanderer to be ; 
Oh ! sad was my heart as I bade it farewell, 
And caught the last glimpse thro' the tears as they fell ; 
Long time have I roamed all alone through the earth, 
But ne'er could forget thee, dear land of my birth ! 
But ne'er. Sec. 

" How oft w-hen in slumber my eyelids I close, 
I dream of that valley, those mountains and snows, 
And I think that I hear the wild torrent above, 
Or list to the song from the lips that I love : 
How it soothes me, that song, as I roam through the earth, 
Can I ever forget thee, dear land of my birth ! 
Can I ever, &c. 

"Ah ! soon shall I see that sweet valley once more, 
When my travels are ended, my wanderings are o'er ; 
Ah ! soon shall I dwell in my blest cottage home. 
And leave it no more, thro' the wide world to roam, 
But draw mv last breath in that calm spot of earth, 
My own native valley, dear land of my birth ! 
My own, &c." 

The President here announced that volunteer sentiments 
would at any time be received. 

The following from the ladies was then read: 

Our bear Bachelors — Blessings on them ! May the verdure of their 
old age exceed even that of their youth! 

Which was received with great merriment. 
The President announced this sentiment from " a sprig of 
the law " in Massachusetts: 

The Ladies — Wliile they continue to celebrate the anniversary of national 
freedom, the Eagle of American liberty will urge his flight onward. 

After which he remarked, that he hoped some gentleman 
Would respond in behalf of the ladies. Mr. Dutcher was a 
man of well knowm chivalric disposition, and he presumed a 
response might be expected from him. 



^. 



33 



Mr. Dutcher^s Remarks,. 



B. DuTCHER, Esq., rose and said: The sentiment which 
has been drank to the ladies, is but a just tribute to their 
worth; nevertheless, we should be wanting in gallantry, did 
we not, in their behalf, mal<e some suitable acknowledgment 
of the flattering notice it contains of them. I think I hazard 
nothing in assuring you, Mr. President, and through you, the 
friend who favored us with this sentiment, that the ladies 
highly appreciate this complimentary allusion. 

[Here the speaker was interrupted by an invited guest (Mr. 
Bingham), reminding him that they were fellow townsmen, 
born within a mile of each other, in a similarly beautiful val- 
ley, the Housatonic, and urging him to sustain the reputation 
of their old native town.] 

Since I am up then, Mr. President, I will remark, that in 
all ages, and among all nations, where Christianity and civi- 
lization have gone hand in hand, the women have at all times 
exerted a great moral influence over the rougher sex. With- 
out them the social circle lacks animation — without their ap- 
probation, enterprise languishes — without their presence, the 
festive scene loses its zest. But for them and their smiles, 
the " verdant old bachelor's " would become a desert waste — 
hapless, disconsolate, and useless objects, scarcely deserving 
the commiseration of mankind. 

[Here the speaker was interrupted by the aforesaid " down 
caster;" who rose, he said, for the purpose of vindicating 
himself and his fortunate, if not Juvored "companions in arms" 
(of whom, he understood, there were a great number in this 
place), from the calumnious charges made against them. Af- 
ter a piquant and amusing colloquy between these two gen- 
tlemen, Mr, D. proceeded.] 

A speaker who preceded me, has alluded in terms of just 
reprobation, to the apathy and seeming indifference of the 
men of this place, in years gone by, to the proper observance 
of our nation's birth-day. Fortunately, what the men lack in 
patriotism, is made up in the energy and perseverance of our 
ladies. This day should be held sacred in every American's 
heart. There should not be a single pulsation, save for liberty 
5 



34 

and independence, now and forever. When man's enthusiasm 
and patriotism diminish, who so fit as woman to rescue^is 
day from oblivion. It was woman who was first at the se*l- 
chrej and if not first in war, she is first in peace, and first in 
the hearts of her countrymen, and, I might add, first in the 
hearts of the bachelors. 

[Here " the down easter " was waked up again, but finally 
acquiesced in the sentiment.] 

The rains of this morning have ceased — the dark and por- 
tentous clouds have cleared away, and given place to glorious 
sunshine; and here we are, on this joyous occasion, with that 
orb above us, and orbs all around us; the former pouring down 
rays of light and heat, while the others radiate beams which 
illuminate the hearts of all, particularly (I will not say ba- 
chelors, for fear of calling up my friend again), those who 
have hearts to love and admire. 

Fame has awarded to the ladies of Spencertown, industry, 
benevolence, moral worth, fine intelluctual powers, and many 
personal attractions. 

No one can question their industry, after having partaken 
of the abundant supply of good things they have this day set 
before us. 

If any doubt their benevolence, moral worth, and intellec- 
tual powers, to such, I would say, cultivate their acquaintance. 

In proof of their personal attractions, I make (as the law- 
yers say), 'profert in curiam. We present them, as did the 
Roman matron her children, and exclaim, " these are our 
jewels P^ 

Nineteen and a half years since, I came to this town a 
stranger; and a lady who is now present took me in. For 
this period I have lived in this village, mingled with its so- 
ciety, and can add my testimony to the proofs already adduc- 
ed, of the high character of the ladies here. 

How refreshing is it, Mr. President, that the people of the 
United States can, on one day of the year, mingle together 
for one common purpose — no party spirit to divide — no po- 
litics to disturb the harmony of the occasion, or diminish the 
universal joy. 

I hope, however, I shall be pardoned, sir, in alluding to 



the politics of the ladies of this vicinity, as all have a right 
to know them, especially, '•' the verdant old bachelors," who 
ar|! bending over this festive board, with palpitating hearts, 
suppressed breathings, suffused eyes, 

•' Gazinu; around, they knew not where, 
Dazzled and drunk with beauty." 

Upon most of the political questions of the day, the ladies 
are perfectly sound. A speaker, to-day, has, however charged 
them with being sworn enemies to liberty. I charge them 
with being in favor of the extension of slavery ! They are, 
to a man (to use a common phrase), in " favor of annexation.''^ 

[Here " the down easter " could stand it no longer, but 
with agitated looks, inquired of the speaker if he was sure of 
that ?] 

I offer, Mr. President, as a sentiment: 

That annexation sanctioned by God, legalized by man, a legitimate source 
of unalloyed happiness. 

The following volunteer sentiments were then given: 

By W. V. A. Husted: 

The Fabric of American Liberty — Based upon intelligence and vir- 
tue — may this noble structure endure till the millenial sun shall gild its sum- 
mit. 

By Peter Groat, Esq., of Chatham : 

The Ladies and Gentlemen of Spencertown — Always liberal — fre- 
quently contributing to the benevolent and social enterprizes of our village — 
We regret that their kindness has not been more properly reciprocated on this 
occasion. 

Mr. J. Bingham rose and said: Mr. President, allow me a 
moment to remind you and this assembly, coming as I do from 
an interesting portion of New England, rich in story and as- 
sociated with innumerable and hallowed recollections of the 
revolution, that one of the most affecting of its memorials 
should not be forgotten on an occasion like this. I give you, 
sir, 

The Bunker Hill Monument — Finished by the skill, taste, industry, 
and piety of woman. May it indeed "meet the sun in his coming, and his 
parting ray linger and play upon its summit," till time shall be no more. 

The following ode was written for the occasion by Miss 
Harriet Olmsted: 



36 



I. 

Yet once again we hail thee. 
Day of our country's birth ! 
A mighty act enrols thee, 
The proudest day of earth ! 
For mind assumed its native power, 
Nor yielded in a bitter hour, 
But 'mid fierce contest still could tower 
In God-like majesty ! 

II. 

Bright be the eyes that meet thee, 

Day of our deepest love ! 
And sweet the smiles that greet thee. 
The gift of One above ! 
And loud and deep the cannon's roar. 
Telling of victories o'er and o'er. 
With echoing shouts from farthest shore. 
Proclaiming liberty ! 

III. 

Sacred, while time shall last, 

Thy treasured hours shall be ; 
Living, each record past, 
. In grateful memory ! 
And ever shall our anthems tell 
The love and joy our bosoms swell 
To Him, who could alone impel 
Our hosts to victory. 

The president here remarked, that it had been suggested 
that the intellectual attractions of the table were interfering 
with the more endearing attractions at the Picnic pavilion. 

Upon this suggestion a motion was carried by acclamation, 
that the whole company adjourn thither; where, after a recess 
of half an hour, the remaining exercises w^ere held. 

The Picnic scene was repeatedly enlivened by excellent 
and appropriate music from the " Spencertown Band." 

Eleventh regular sentiment: 

Our Common Schools, Academies, and other institutions of learning — 
The light-houses of the land. 

Mr. J. A. Mills, principal of the high school at Williams- 
town, Mass., being called out, spoke as follows: 

Mr. Mills^s Remarks. 
Mr. President, and ladies and gentlemen — Most gladly have 
I accepted the polite invitation which has been extended to 
me to be present on this occasion. 



37 



I love to come here and gaze out upon these hills, and to 
wander by these streams. They all have in them a history 
which I love to read. But do not suppose that I have come 
over here to celebrate, because we have no celebrations in 
the Old Bay State. No! Massachusetts — God bless her — has 
still, I trust, a little of that spirit which actuated her sons in 
the bloody times of '76. The blood-stained plains of Con- 
cord, of Lexingston, and of Bunkerhill, must be blotted from 
the map of her territory ere her sons can forget that day 
which gave birth to their liberties. I have read that one town 
in Massachusetts appropriated $1200 to celebrate the fourth 
of July. This is as it should be; and if my will could be 
obeyed, not one town only, but every town and village from 
the St. Johns to the Sabine — yea, to the Rio Grande, should 
appropriate a portion of their earnings to celebrate this anni- 
versary. As well might the Jew forget to light the altar at 
the return of the Passover, as for the citizens of this republic 
to neglect to observe this our nation's festival. Let us hail, 
then, its annual return with joy and gladness. Let the youth 
of our land learn from the example of their fathers and mo- 
thers, to estimate it as they should, and then may we hope 
that liberty will ever find a welcome home in this our belov- 
ed country. The sentiment which has just been pronounced, 
meets with a hearty response in my bosom: "Our colleges 
and seminaries, the light-houses of our land," 

Now, the very idea of a light-house implies danger. Built 
as they generally are, upon half-concealed rock, amid the 
wide waste of waters, they not only serve to warn the ma- 
riner of danger, but by its light he is enabled to guide his 
ship safely into port. So with our schools. They both sound 
the alarm and provide the remedy. Let them be scattered 
throughout the length and breadth of our land, and we have 
nought to fear. Before their light, popery and every form of 
error will hide its head. Let the mighty west be dotted over 
with school-houses, and there will grow up a population 
which will be a bulwark to our nation. An educated people 
cannot be enslaved. 

The influence of our schools, like the lightning which rends 
the mountain oak, is only seen by its effects. To a casual 



38 



observer, there may be but little connection between teaching 
a child his letters, and the movement of that great machine 
which regulates the destiny of our nation. But I need not 
tell you that the mighty river, whose banks are studded with 
thriving villages, and on whose bosom is borne the produc- 
tions of every clime, is made up of rills which come out un- 
observed from the sides of the mountains. The child of to- 
day will to-morrow be a man, and that infant tribe which 
now uneasily sit from day to day in our district school-houses, 
will soon be found at the helm of our ship of state, guiding 
it whithersoever they will. Let us then foster our schools and 
seminaries of learning. Let them be as dear as the apple of 
our eye. 

I have been informed that the inhabitants of this vicinity 
have had it for some time in contemplation to erect an aca- 
demy. And furthermore, I learn that the direction of this 
enterprise is in the hands of old bachelors. Now, I am no 
prophet, but still I will venture to predict that this committee 
never will perfect this work which has been left in their 
charge. My advice would be to increase their number by 
adding to the list some half a dozen of the ladies who are 
now within the hearing of my voice, and, my word tor it, 
this building would not only be located, but its foundation 
would be laid, and its walls would rise beautiful and strong. 
I am by no means a believer in that old adage, that those 
who make the most stir and bwitle in the world accomplish 
the least. And I am only reiterating an old and threadbare 
sentiment, when I say that there was nothing great or good 
ever accomplished in the world, which woman did not either 
act in, advise, or smile upon. I trust my plan will be adopted 
in regard to this building committee; and then if I should 
ever again visit your village, I shall find in your midst an in- 
stitution shedding abroad that light which such establishments 
always give wherever they are located. 

Permit me, in closing, to give this sentiment: 

The School Ma'ams of our Common Schools — Their influence will de- 
termine the character of the next generation. ,, 

Mr. H. E. NiLES presented the following sentiment, which 
had been handed to the committee: 



39 

From a Friend at Chatham four-corners: 

The People of Spejvcertown — Having their former kindness in remem- 
brance, we trust they will not jud^e us too severely, until we have another 
opportunity to prove ourselves good neighbors. 

To which sentiment, Rev. Mr. Woodbridge responded as 

follows: 

Our Friends at Chatham four-corners — We have always found them 
good neighbors, and are well assured they will show themselves such on every 
future occasion. 

U. L. Davis, chief marshal of the day, offered the follow- 
ing remarks: 

Mr. President, and Ladies and Gentlemen — It is a matter 
of self-gratulation, that, upon this birthday of freedom, I am 
permitted to join with you in offering incense upon the altar 
of liberty. We stand upon an eminence to-day, from which 
we look back to the dark period when oppression weighed 
down our fathers. We behold them rising under that pres- 
sure, and engaging in a struggle for freedom, in which life 
was sacrificed, and the soil on which we tread was baptized 
in blood. In that hard conflict they triumphed, they broke 
the yoke of oppression, and buried it in that grave from which, 
we trust, there will be no resurrection. Thus our free insti- 
tutions, the glory and hope of the country, are the price of 
blood. Based upon those institutions, our country has arisen 
like the sun in splendor, becoming the head of nations and 
the glory of the world. I offer this sentiment: 

Our Institutions — Planted in a soil congenial to their growth, nourished 
by intelli.rence and virtue, matured by time, and smiled upon by heaven — 
may they be as immoveable as the everlasting mountains. 

The following sentiment was given by Mr. W. A-JH^es, of 

West-Stockbridge: * 

The Spencertown Brass Band — Their national airs, spirited and soul- 
stirring, heightening the enthusiasm of this occasion, must emanate from a 
source truly patriotic. 

Rev. J. H. NoRTHRUP being called up, spoke as follows: 
Mr. President — I need not tell you, sir, nor any of my 
friends here, that I am usually a temperate and sober man. 
Indeed, sir, to be otherwise, would illy comport with the 
times in which we live, and with the nature of my profes- 
sion. But this " feast of reason — this flow of soul " — they 
have quite overcome me. Reason has by no means deserted me, 



40 



but, somehow or other, feeling has got the ascendancy. It 
has resulted entirely from drinking largely and freely of those 
pure and exalted feelings which are inspired by these beauti- 
ful surrounding hills, this sweet and quiet valley, this musical 
stream of clear water, these ancient sycamores gracefully 
bending over and shading our festive board, and the nature 
and circumstances of the occasion. And I am glad to say, 
sir, that I am not alone in this happy state of mind; for I 
have not been quaffing the inspiration in secret, but here with 
my friends. 

Language is too poor to express the deep, broad, and rich 
current that animates and swells my bosom to-day. "Whilst 
we have been listening to pure and lofty sentiment as it has 
floated along these tables in flowing eloquence or flashing 
wit; and to music now pouring forth in the soft, sweet, and 
silvery tones of the human voice, then bursting forth in bolder 
strains from brazen-throated trumpets; though our eyes have 
sparkled, our faces beamed with delight, and our bosoms 
heaved with emotion; though we have joined the merry laugh, 
clapped our hands and shouted applause; though we have 
made every visible sign of a stirred and delighted soul, still 
we have failed of giving full utterance to the deep, inexpres- 
sibly deep feelings of the heart. 

And is it strange, sir, that at this illustrious period of the 
world, on such an illustrious day, such an illustrious people, 
animated by, and practising such illustrious principles — I say, 
is it strange that we should feel more than we can act or speak? 
What ponder, sir, if we should rejoice, and our hearts swell 
nio-h is bursting, when we come to pour out one libation of 
grateful 'feeling to the memory of those who achieved for us 
our glorious independence — when we hear of the indomitable 
courage and virtue of our revolutionary fathers and mothers, 
the purity of the puritan religion — and when we feel confi- 
dent that the sons of the Puritans will defend, cultivate, and 
practise that religion to the end of time. 

And then, sir, the principles springing from that religion: 
they are the main spring, the motive power, the chief ele- 
ment in almost every revolutionary movement of the day, to 
ameliorate the condition of our race. 



41 



0, sir, we have a vast deal to make us a happy nation; 
but let us remember that we have as much to make us respon- 
sible. It is no vain boasting to say that there is no other na- 
tion on the globe which has, in its origin, progress, present 
position, and bright prospects, cause for rejoicing, triumph, 
and hope like our own. Where is the nation that is as hap- 
py and contented, and free throughout the entire year as our 
own? And on what one day in every year does any other 
nation gather its great population in assemblies like this? 
Yes, sir, the great heart of this nation beats high and warm 
to-day. The God of nations grant that the mighty throb- 
bings of liberty in our great land, may soon be felt over the 
whole earth. May tyranny soon die, and the genius of liberty 
spread her balmy wings over all the nations. 

And now, sir, I will close with this sentiment: 

The Occasioiv — Its anticipations have been large, its participations larger, 
and its recollections will long flourish, the brighest, the loveliest, and most 
fragrant in our memories. 

The following volunteer sentiments were read: 
By W. I. Peake: 

The Magnetic Telegraph — A mighty chain that is destined to bind in 
more perfect harmony the great sisterhood of the States. 

By W. Bailey: 

Our American Institutions — Founded upon a rock, amid the billows of 
persecution and contention, they afford us peace and happiness ; tried in the 
crucible of experience, we have tested their high value. 

J. W. GoTT, Esq., here rose and said: 

Mr. President — I hope you will allow me the favor of a 
moment. I have suffered much from certain " compunctious 
visitings " on account of the vain, false, and scandalous re- 
marks in which, in an evil hour, I was led to indulge at the 
other table. Tears, sir, the warm tears of penitence have 
been shed by me over those unguarded words; and I do now, 
with all humility, crave pardon of those whom I so foolishly 
attacked. 

I was deluded with a sudden fancy for playing the part of 
public avenger; but that fancy has passed, and I am again 
restored to reason. To prove, sir, how sincerely I have exer- 
cised the virtue of repentance, and how fully I have returned 
6 



42 

to my wonted allegiance to the ladies and to truth, I offer the 
following sentiment: 

Truth and Beauty — It is the elory of life to draw from the pure foun- 
tains of one, under the beaming smiles of the other. 

Twelfth regular sentiment: 

The Women of America — The guardians of our liberty, the glory of our 
country, the admiration of the world, and favored of Heaven. 

Dr. J. W. Palmer was called to respond to this sentiment, 
but declined on account of the lateness of the hour. 

The following volunteer sentiments were offered: 

By C. M. Scholefield: 

The love of liberty, and the liberty of loving. 

By H. E. NiLES: 

The Ladies who have delighted us with their music to-day — May their 
lives be like their music — a perjjetual flow of harmony and of beauty ; and 
as the dying swan is said to expire amid strains of sweetest melody, so may 
they live, 

" That when death shall come. 
Swan-like and sweet it may waft them home." 

After which, " Merry, merry day " was again called for, 
and sung with great spirit. 

The following was then offered: 

The City of New-York — The great commercial emporium of our coun- 
try — We rejoice that the sons of Spencertown are mingling in her most con- 
spicuous scenes of mercantile enterprise and professional honor. 

Mr. John Olmsted, of New-York, being loudly called for,- 
responded as follows: 

Mr. President — In behalf of those citizens of New-York 
who hail this delightful village as their birth-place and their 
home, I respond with much pleasure to the sentiment just 
uttered. Though separated for a great portion of the year 
from the scenes of our childhood and early youth — though 
engrossed by the absorbing pursuits and interests of a city 
life, still, we find leisure to fight our school-boy battles over 
again; still your prosperity gladdens our hearts, and your ca- 
lamities receive our deepest sympathy. We meet not in the 
exciting scenes of business, without inquiring " the news from 
the country;" we spend no evening in social converse, with- 
out devoting a full moiety to reminiscences of by-gone days- 



43 



The enterprise of the city of New- York can scarcely be ex- 
aggerated. Her commerce whitens every sea — her sails court 
the spicy breezes that float o'er Ceylon's isle — they brave the 
dread typhoon, which sweeps with incredible fury the Asiatic 
seas — they spread their snowy wings to the free embrace of 
the trade winds — they are frozen in the icy regions of the 
poles, and flap idly against the mast on the benighted shores 
of Africa. The manufactures of Europe — the spices and 
teas of the East — the fragrant coffee of Brazil— —the fruits of 
the West Indies — in fact, all the productions of nature and 
art, are, by her commerce, brought to our very doors, and 
many have become incorporated into the catalogue of our 
daily wants and uses. 

Her enterprise is manifested also in that most stupendous 
work, the Croton aqueduct — in the style and beauty of her 
public buildings — in the management and extent of her bene- 
volent institutions, and in her rapid growth. Her population 
numbers nearly 500,000 souls, embracing an area of some 15 
miles in circumference, surrounded by navigable rivers, teem-^ 
ing with life, and vocal with the hum of busy industry. 

A great portion of her ablest professional and business men 
were born and reared in this and the New England States; 
and there is a constant influx of the young and enterprising, 
fresh from the endearments and holy influences of home, to 
keep pace with the growing trade of this already great com- 
mercial emporium. 

This village, like almost every other, has contributed its 
quota; a few of whom are with you this day, joining in this 
glorious celebration, this feast of reason and flow of soul. 

How sweet are the influences by which we are surround- 
ed ! Familiar faces are seen on every side. The green fields 
and the towering hills, o'er which we rambled in boyhood, 
are spread out around us in all the pride of luxuriant beauty. 
The neat spire of our village church, and the modest dwell- 
ings of our friends and kindred, are seen nestled together 
near us; while Myrtle creek still winds its silvery way through 
this lovely valley, making the same music which we loved in 
days of " auld lang syne." 



44 



I close, Mr. President, by giving you 

Myrtle Creek — Like the school-boy with the first letter of the alphabet, 
" 1 k.iew him well enough by sight, but rat me if I could tell his name." 

By Th. B. Carroll, Esq., of Troy: 

Columbia County — Her wealth and prosperity, like the digtiity and fame 
of her sons, find a ready solution in her beautiful landscapes, fertile soil, 
abundant water-power, excellent schools, numerous churches, pretty girls, 
sweet wives, and good mothers. 

By David B. Groat, Esq., of Troy: 

Columbia's Glory — Coequal with the blessings of her institutions are the 
beauty and virtue of her dauj;hters. In canvassing the beauty of the world, 
the nations must " Hail Columbia !" And in instituting a similar comparison 
" at home," we are compelled to respond, " Hail Columbia!" Dutch bloom 
and Yankee spirit form the highest combination of feminine loveliness. 

Thirteenth regular sentiment: 

The Protestant Religion — Our fathers loved it; our mothers cherished 
it — may their sons and daughters ever regard it as the corner-stone of Ameri- 
can liberty. 

The president of the day, Rev. T, Woodbridge, being called 
upon, made the following remarks: 

Ladies and Gentlemen — The broad disk of the sun almost 
touches our western mountains, and admonishes me to let my 
words be few. You have passed a most exciting day. You 
have been borne along upon the waves of music and elo- 
quence, till your minds are flurried with rapture and jaded 
with fatigue; and in this frame of spirit, you do not w^antto hear 
a grave discussion upon the Protestant religion. And yet 
this religion is an element which is mixed up so largely with 
our history, our institutions, and all the goodly things around 
us, that we should be recreant to our obligations if w^e were 
to pass it by in silence on such a day as this. You will not 
expect me, just as the sun is setting, to spread out the length 
and breadth of the Protestant religion; I will, therefore, limit 
my remarks to a single distinctive feature of it, which is 
strikingly brought out in one of the mottoes on these beautiful 
banners, which are floating over our tables to-day. The 
motto I refer to is this: 

" Tyrants, be afraid, the Bible is unfettered." 

Yes, the Bible is unfettered. The Protestant religion un- 
fettered it, and sent it forth upon its mission of liberty and 
salvation among the families of the earth. Whenever the 



45 



Bible comes into the possession of a human being, it whispers 
to his soul a great lesson on the right of private judgment in 
matters of religion. The very fact of possessing a Bible 
arouses a man's faculties, and brings him up to a sense of re- 
sponsibility. He understands that he is to read and interpret 
this holy volume for himself This noble exercise of the 
right of private judgment in matters of religion, unsepulchres 
the mind and gives it a new existence. 

A young and gifted Italian asked me, a few months ago, 
what he should do to be a Protestant. I said to him, take 
your Bible, and say this is a revelation from God to my soul. 
I will consult it; I will read it; I will sound its depths as far 
as I am able; and I will draw my religion from its fountains 
of eternal truth. It was given to make me wise unto salva- 
tion. I will read it for myself. I will not go to the pope or 
the grand-duke, or the church, or the state, to prescribe my 
faith, but I will read and interpret the Bible for myself This 
will make you a Protestant; and if you will humbly believe 
the doctrine God reveals to your faith, and obey the precepts 
God enjoins upon your life, you will be, in the highest sense 
and significance of the word, a Christian. 

At the Reformation, when the people began to read the 
Bible, they found that they had been outrageously abused in 
matters of religion; and after their minds had been expanded 
with these new and stirring subjects of inquiry, they began 
to direct their attention to other quarters, and they soon found 
that they had been excessively abused in matters of govern- 
ment as well as religion. And their hearts soon began to 
yearn for civil as well as religious liberty. Their new-born 
energies prompted them to level their double batteries against 
the spiritual hierarchies and political despotisms that over- 
shadowed them. Our Puritan fathers were the most ardent 
lovers of the Bible; and, by necessary consequence, of liberty 
too. They could not be satisfied, or feel that any thing was 
done, till the last chain of oppression was broken. They 
came here, that religion and liberty might have a country and 
a home, which they could call their own. Puritanism is the 
fullest and most perfect development of the Protestant reli- 



46 



gion. It was this religion that sent the Mayflower, with the 
rudiments of an empire in her cabin, to Plymouth rock. 

This event, in the language of a great writer of England, 
was the beginning of America. There were straggling set- 
tlers in America before, but the soul was not there. These 
men determined on settling in the new world. Black, un- 
tamed forests are there, and wild savage creatures, but not so 
cruel as star-chamber hangmen. They thought the earth 
would yield them food if they tilled honestly. The everlast- 
ing Heaven would stretch there, too, overhead; and they should 
be left in peace, to prepare for eternity, by living well in 
time. Ha! these men, I think, had a work! The weak 
thing, weaker than a child, becomes strong one day, if it be 
a true thing. Men could laugh at Puritanism then, but no- 
body can manage to laugh at it now. Puritanism has got 
weapons and sinews; it has fire-arms, war navies; it can steer 
ships, fell forests, remove mountains; it is one of the strong- 
est things under the sun. 

The Protestant religion, which " our fathers loved and our 
mothers cherished," was not a production of the sixteenth 
century. It is as old as the word of God. It traces back its 
history to Jesus Christ and the Apostles. It existed in all its 
strength and beauty, long before it was overlaid with popery. 
This primitive and pure religion is the glory and bulwark of 
our land. It has bestowed upon us the blessings of a pu- 
blished Bible, and a proclaimed Bible, too. God grant that 
these blessings may remain our rich heritage, till the shout of 
salvation shall thunder through the temple of God. 

At the close of the foregoing exercises, the assembly dis^ 
persed, after singing, with much spirit, "Auld Lang Syne." 



47 



The following lines on Myrtle creek and the recent festival, 
were written by Miss A. D. Woodbridge, while on a visit at 
Spencertown, a few days after the celebration. 



" MYRTLE CREEK." 

A gentle stream, unknown to song ; 

Yet beauty is its dower : 
It floweth through the meadows green, 

Where many a fragrant flower 
Bends over it with loving eye, 

In the still noon-tide hour. 

A crystal stream, whose waters flash 

In morning's golden ray ; 
Now dancing like a frolic child ; 

Then stealing slow away. 
As if amid these sylvan scenes 

They fain would longer stay. 

It windeth through a quiet vale ; 

It turns a rustic mill : 
On either side are harvest fields ; 

Above, a wood-crowned hill ; 
While near is seen a graceful spire, 

A hamlet fair and still. 

In morning hour, in noontide ray. 

In the soft twilight gleam. 
Steals ever on thelist'ning ear 

The murmur of that stream, 
Blent oft with leaf-notes from its bank; 

Like music of a dream. 

Beneath its spreading sycamores, 

Within a fairy glade, 
Upon our country's natal day, 

Glad offerings were paid : 
They came— the happy and the free ; 

There, none might maJce afraid. 

They came— the shepherd and his flockj 

To bless the gracious hand 
That led our fathers all the way — 

A brave, united band; 
To ask his blessing evermore^ 

On our loved, native land. 



48 



The following communication was received from D. B. 
Groat, Esq., of Troy: 

Troy, July 1, 1846. 
C. B. DuTCHER, Esq. 

Dear Sir — Your kind note, inviting me to attend 
a "Festival," which the ladies of your place are preparing 
for the fourth inst., is before me. Nothing, I can assure you, 
would afford me greater pleasure than to meet you and my 
old acquaintances on that occasion, and avail myself of the 
generous hospitality so munificently proffered by those whom 
you represent. 

Prior engagements, however (I need not say I regret), will 
prevent my participating in what I can readily anticipate will 
be a feast of all good things. 

You will find a basket of fruit at the Chatham depot, on 
the morning of the fourth, on the arrival of the cars from 
Albany, which I shall send for the use of the ladies, with my 
best wishes for their success in their patriotic and benevolent 
enterprise. 

Truly yours, &c. 

D. B. GROAT. 









SPENCERTOWN 
r E S T I Y A L . 



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